


Sinking

by Konbini



Category: Peaky Blinders (TV)
Genre: M/M, Pain Kink, Tommy is not a good brother
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-19
Updated: 2020-08-19
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:27:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25982089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Konbini/pseuds/Konbini
Summary: Arthur is sinking.Tommy needs his attack dog and he thinks he's found a way to ensure he'll have him.Alfie is only supposed to whip Arthur back into fighting shape.Tommy has no idea what he's put in motion.
Relationships: Arthur Shelby/Alfie Solomons
Comments: 18
Kudos: 31





	1. Chapter 1

It occurs to Tommy, as he's sitting there, that Alfie is very commanding and competent despite his idiosyncrasies. Which isn't a revelation, or shouldn't be. Tommy's always known that. And yet, in the context - he'd been thinking about Arthur hadn't he? - the information seems fresh.

Alfie is skilled at handling his men. Tommy admits his own manipulations have at times fallen short of the desired results.

He doesn't like to admit he manipulates at all.

It's what Arthur needs though, to be led, to be pushed in the proper direction. The Peaky Blinders were hardly anything when Arthur was in charge, would have remained so if not for Tommy's insistence.

Arthur is supposed to be Tommy's number two, the person he delegates to. He can't very well delegate Arthur's own fragility at him and tell him to buck up. He's tried that, doesn't work.

And Tommy knows Arthur and Alfie hate each other. More accurately Alfie pushes and pushes, pressing every sore spot of vanity, and Arthur reacts in his hot tempered way. Arthur had hated doing business with Alfie after Alfie's betrayal stunt.

It's different now though. Alfie won't hurt Arthur, hadn't hurt him even that first time, and Tommy will make sure Arthur is heeled.

"I've got a proposition for you Alfie." Tommy says, and begins.

"Why the fuck does Tommy want me here?" Arthur asks Isaiah as they pull up to a fine house right on the seashore. The boy has no answer for him though.

"He just said to get you here and back." Isaiah grumbles, "Said I'm not to go inside."

Arthur hardens the line of his mouth.

Things are never pleasant for him when Tommy is vague.

And Arthur is - unwell. He feels like he's reeling. Like he can't reign himself in. Feels monstrous and knows he is and he wants to be good good good.

He's sick with it. Unwell.

And he steels himself because he needs to do what Tommy needs him to do.

So he goes up to the door and knocks politely and a maid leads him through to a stuffy room with nice things in it. Like someone's collected a mish mash of all the objects that have ever caught their fancy.

It's some moments, and Arthur's temper is getting hotter each moment he waits, before a familiar figure enters.

"Why you look as though you've seen a ghost." Alfie croaks, chuckling to himself, taking Arthur in.

"How are you..." Arthur, mouth stupidly fallen open, begins before composing himself.

"You know I looked just as you do now, gobsmacked really, when Tommy begged me to take control of his unyielding, difficult, and mess of a big brother."

"He did not!" Arthur snaps, already feeling doubt even as he says it.

"Oh he did." Alfie says, in a way that's meant to be infuriating Arthur is sure, and sidles up beside him, "And lucky for the lot of you that I like messes."

Arthur's cheeks heat in indignation.

"I'm leaving." He says shortly and he walks the short distance to the door but just as he's leaving Alfie's words stop him.

"And you want me to tell Tommy you didn't even try?"

With clenched teeth Arthur makes his way back inside, body fighting each step. Alfie smiles cheekily. The scars and the pale eye do nothing to diminish the effect.

The scars. Tommy must have done that, Arthur knows - had heard the story. And what if Alfie wants revenge? Is Tommy insane, putting Arthur and Alfie together like this?

"Good." Alfie says, and pours four fingers of rum for each of them. "I know we've not got on well in the past. I just want to assure you that will not carry over here. Tommy trusts me, you should trust me."

Arthur bristles but doesn't answer.

"And if it gets to be too much for you then you only need to say."

That part confuses Arthur so Arthur does what he usually does when things confuse him - pretends he understands. Alfie looks at him skeptically when he only nods.

"You don't have any questions?" Alfie asks.

"Let's get it done with." Arthur aggravates testily.

Alfie snorts shortly, considering, gestures Arthur to sit down and so they both do, opposite ends of the settee.

They drink while Alfie stares and Arthur wonders why he's so broken that Tommy thinks dumping him on an enemy is a good idea.

And then Alfie movies closer.

Arthur's so lost in thought he doesn't notice it at first. It's hard to miss though when Alfie abruptly presses against him and flattens him over the arm of the settee.

Arthur thinks he gasps. And this is it. Alfie is going to get revenge and kill him.

Arthur's usually not so dulled. His sharp instincts have always kept him alive.

Only Alfie just...holds him down, waits for Arthur to meet his gaze before continuing.

Arthur has no explanation for it. He can't look away. His heart is in his throat as Alfie constricts his wrist and pushes them up over Arthur's head.

"Wh-" Arthur chokes out before Alfie begins pushing into him, making it hard to breathe.

"Do you cry Arthur?" Alfie asks calmly, as if the question is inane.

Arthur gasps in response, alarmed and...frightened. He doesn't admit that to himself though. And then Alfie sits up pulling Arthur with him before Arthur finds himself being turned right back around and draped back over the settee arm.

Alfie pulls Arthur's arm slowly and uncomfortably up his back, pressure increasingly.

It hurts. Eventually Arthur can't be quiet.

"Oh fuck." He says weakly, pained.

Alfie stops.

"You can cry." Alfie says.

"Fuck you." Arthur says bitterly.

And then the pain eases back, increases.

Arthur starts to breathe more heavily. Tries not to cry out until again he can't take it.

"Please." he wheezes.

And what it the point of this? It's different from the instant dizzy of a punch. The sting of a knife.

Alfie stops.

"Tears yet?" he asks, angling Arthur back.

"No!" Arthur spits and is alarmed when Alfie's face softens when he sees him.

Alfie's hand comes up and a thumb swipes at the corner of Arthur's eye, comes away wet.

Arthur is mortified. He kicks and writhes and bucks. Alfie presses him down to mute him and it's a moment before Arthur realizes the man is running a hand through Arthur's hair.

"That's good." Alfie says when the struggling falls off.

Arthur feels...bewilderment. He doesn't know what is happening.

"Good, Arthur." Alfie murmurs, hands feeling good in Arthur's hair.

"I..." Arthur begins but the words fade in his throat.

Alfie continues stroking him and Arthur lets him.

"I know what you need Arthur." Alfie says, so sure that it makes Arthur's head feel funny as he lays there.

Alfie murmurs things like, 'good, good, very good Arthur' and 'just relax' until Arthur can no longer make out the words but can soak up the soothing tone. He goes boneless in Alfie's arms.

He isn't sure how much time passes but then Alfie is righting them, drying Arthur's tear tracks, straightening Arthur's tie and sending him out the door with a short goodbye.

Arthur walks dazed to the car where Isaiah is waiting for him.

"What happened?" Isaiah asks, hoping to glean something exciting.

"Nothing." Arthur says too quickly.

He feels different, lighter maybe. Astonished certainly. And confused. He brushes it off and doesn't mean to think of it again.

"Twice a week of nothing then. Bloody boring for me I hope you know."

"...d-did you say twice?" Arthur asks, expression unschooled, eyes wide.

"A week, yeah. Tommy asked me to take you down again next Wednesday."

Arthur gets butterflies in his stomach.

Well, he's not going and Tommy can't make him - are his initial thoughts.

But he catches Alfie's reflection in the glass watching them as they drive away and feels something like excitement or dread sit heavy in his stomach.

For the first time in a long time Arthur's thoughts are not singularly destructive. Instead he feels things he hasn't felt in a long time. Bafflement, cautious amusement, discontentment, discomfiture and...anticipation.


	2. Chapter 2

Fucking Margate.

"So you're really not going to tell me what's this about?" Isaiah sounds disbelieving even as he says it.

"Tommy told you to keep your fucking mouth shut Isaiah, so you better mind him." Arthur says hotly, overacting his authority.

The boy only shakes his head like he can't believe Arthur won't tell him. Usually Arthur would indulge him, but not today.

Interchanges like these between Arthur and the young man make Arthur think of John. He misses the easy camaraderie. He misses how someone used to look up to him. He misses John boy so much it hurts whenever he thinks about it, makes his eyes sting.

His own son, the older he gets, is increasingly estranged by Arthur's own doing. Arthur doesn't want Billy in this life, as much as he can help it. That and... Arthur doesn't want to be his namesake.

"Fine then. Keep your secrets." Isaiah rolls his eyes good-naturedly and sets himself up for a nap, cap over his eyes.

Arthur hems and haws, fiddles with his cap briefly before heading to the door.

It's the same maid, silent and professional, and when she leads him in Alfie is already sitting in the same room as before - monocle perched on his good eye, nose in a book - on a chair across from the settee.

He rises though when Arthur comes in. It's a sign of mutual respect, one that Arthur doesn't usually get. It also reminds Arthur of the way gentlemen rise for ladies, for some odd reason, and he scowls quite suddenly - wonders if he's being made fun of.

"In a good mood I see?" Alfie says wryly as the maid leaves.

Arthur doesn't answer. He ranges around the room uncomfortably, wondering if he should sit, steering clear of Alfie who watches him knowingly. It makes Arthur feel chilled.

Arthur doesn't know what's going to happen. The uncertainty of it all makes him itch. It's exciting, in a way.

"Would you like tea?" Alfie asks, which isn't at all what Arthur is expecting.

He glances over at the rum, Alfie sees him but doesn't comment on it.

"Tea would be lovely." Arthur says eventually, deciding on polite.

Alfie rings a bell and a few moments later the maid is back with the bone china, setting it haphazardly on an end table.

Alfie hasn't yet heckled him or tried to humiliate him. Given what had happened last time...Arthur realizes he's at a disadvantage if Alfie decided to embarrass him. Then tells himself that he'd punch Alfie in his stupid mouth if he so much as said one word so it all doesn't bear thinking about.

Still, Arthur's a little flushed when Alfie pours a cup and hands it directly to him, fingers brushing.

"Please sit." Alfie says, mirroring the tone of propriety.

They sit opposite each other this time.

Alfie enjoys his tea loudly, in that distinctly irritating way he has. More irritating, he pointedly does not address the nature of Arthur's visit int he slightest.

Arthur shifts uncomfortably, unsure what he should be doing. He finishes the tea. When he does Alfie immediately puts his own unfinished cup aside.

Arthur opens his mouth to speak but words fail him.

He feels like...prey, quite suddenly.

Alfie crosses over from his chair to sit next to Arthur.

"I miss John."

For a moment neither of them stir.

For a moment Arthur isn't sure who said the words.

Alfie hums quietly in contemplation and Arthur fiddles with his cuffs. He feels awkward - stupid.

"Okay." Alfie eventually breathes, even closer now. He drapes his arm on the back of the settee, behind Arthur.

They haven't even gotten started but Arthur feels his eyes start to sting. He tries to turn away from Alfie but a hand on his chest stops him.

"We'll do it like this today." Alfie says firmly, makes Arthur stick in place.

He reaches across Arthur to grab his hand, now fisted - knuckles white. Alfie closes his own hand over top and squeezes Arthur's fingers lightly, pressing them inward.

Arthur gasps in surprise. The sharp pain is jamming and immediate.

Alfie releases.

Arthur leans back into the settee despite himself, against Alfie's arm. He licks his dry lips and bows his head.

"What do you miss about him?" Alfie asks, and then squeezes his hand like an iron band around Arthur's own again, pressing the fingers down painfully.

"H-he..oh, he was...just a stupid kid." Tears are streaming down Arthur's face now, words quiet and nearly breathless with pain, "I loved him so much. He was the baby of the family, for the longest time. Until Fin. Loved him like he was my own. Like Billy. Failed him, though."

Alfie releases Arthur's fingers but something comes over Arthur then and he grabs Alfie's hand with his free hand and presses it back down.

"Alright then Arthur." Alfie says and eases the ache back into Arthur's fingers.

It's a building pressure, not sudden - which Arthur appreciates.

"D' you have anyone you miss?" Arthur slurs.

Alfie seems surprised at the question. After a moment he finally answers.

"We're focusing on you right now Arthur."

"Oh." Arthur says dumbly.

And of course Arthur knows that. Isn't it why he's here? A tacit agreement to get him sorted?

Arthur thinks of what Aunt Pol said about finding someone to put his flame out. Thinks of how pathetic he is that Tommy is the one who had to find someone to do it for him.

Arthur straightens then and wrenches his hand out of Alfie's grasp. Alfie isn't prepared for it. Clenches tighter for a second and unimaginable pain shoots up Arthur's arm. Arthur hisses, immobilized for a beat, before he stands.

"Arthur." Alfie says wearily, like he's warning Arthur or something.

It's the same tone that Tommy uses on him, and it triggers something ugly in him.

"What?!" Arthur spits.

Alfie looks over Arthur's hand from where he's still seated and that just makes Arthur angrier.

Arthur waits but Alfie doesn't do anything, just sits there as if waiting for Arthur to say something.

"Are you going to do it or not?!" Arthur demands loudly.

"And what is it you're thinking I'm going to do?" Alfie asks calmly.

"...hurt me." Arthur says, words angry but said quietly with no small amount of embarrassment.

When Alfie only leans forward and blinks at him Arthur says it again.

"Hurt me!"

"You're going to scare the maid." Alfie hushes, and then, "if you want me to hurt you I can fucking do that. Could lay you flat out, but we both know that's not what you're here for."

Arthur breathes heavily, anger dissipating just as fast as it came on.

"You said you knew what I needed." Arthur says.

Even Arthur doesn't know what he needs.

At that Alfie's expression changes, opens a little reluctantly.

"I miss too many people to count." he says darkly.

Too serious. Always Alfie has had some unreal and ridiculous cartoonish quality to him, dreamy like, not at the moment though. Arthur doesn't know what to do with it.

Arthur takes a moment and then he sits back down, a little further away this time.

"Come." Alfie says, reaching out to tug Arthur to him, "let me."

Arthur does.

He lets Alfie pull him into the circle of his arms until they're back to chest. He rests there while Alfie works on his hands. Small, sharp pains interspersed with Alfie massaging the fingers down. The pain keeps him anchored.

It also makes it acceptable because otherwise Arthur doesn't know what he'd be doing in another man's arms.

Eventually though, it has to end.

Alfie grunts and rights them both. Arthur, limp pool that he is, doesn't do much to help.

"I'll see you next week, eh?"

Usually Arthur would take it as a dismissal but Alfie stops and waits for Arthur's reply.

Arthur nods.

"Tommy doesn't need to know everything, does he?" Alfie adds, looking expectant.

Arthur shakes his head shortly, gulps quite suddenly.

"Bit of a fucking mess today, wasn't it?" Alfie adds, now talking as if to himself, "I'll be more prepared next time."

It occurs to Arthur, only as him and Isaiah are driving away, that Alfie had almost sounded worried that Arthur wasn't going to return. Almost sounded like he was trying to entice Arthur back with his promise to be more prepared.

It's so puzzling it's all Arthur thinks about, floating through each day and the weekend, until it's nearly time again.

Tommy looks satisfied with himself. Doesn't ask, so of course Arthur doesn't tell.


	3. Chapter 3

It's looking to become a weekly thing.

Arthur feels run ragged amid Tommy's ambitions and the financial strain of Black Tuesday. He has a lot on his plate and he needs to just be...efficient.

Arthur uses that as a justification anyway when he ends up back at Alfie's door.

"Well, look at that, here's your lovely face again." Alfie says, answering the door himself.

Arthur scowls, hates being made fun of.

"Got here just in time by the looks of it." Alfie prods.

Arthur can feel his frustration climb. And it is frustration - emphatically not anticipation.

"Maid's day off." Alfie explains when Arthur continues to say nothing."You may as well come in."

They start off on the couch right away.

"Any particular body part you have a row with today?" Alfie asks, looking him over in a way that strangely makes Arthur want to blush.

Arthur shrugs.

"How much does Tommy pay?" Arthur asks abruptly, after already having decided not to, "for these visits?"

"Arthur, you wound me." Alfie's hand clasps his heart in a pantomime.

After a beat of silence Alfie continues, voice serious.

"Do you really need to know?"

Arthur guesses not. It'd really only probably make him angry.

"Okay then." Alfie says, seeing the decision in Arthur's face, and reaches for him.

Their legs are angled towards each other, they're very nearly face to face but the angle offsets them.

"Legs up."

Arthur complies.

Alfie passes an exploratory hand over them.

"Tommy been working you hard, has he? You're stiff all over."

Arthur nods, already relaxing at the abysmally small show of gentleness.

"Fucking Tommy." Arthur murmurs.

If he's being honest he's worried. Arthur knows he isn't in the best shape himself but Tommy...even Lizzie says he's losing it.

Arthur frets a little too visually.

"He seemed alright." Alfie says, watching Arthur.

Of course once Arthur is aware he's being watched he tries to smarten himself up. Alfie is still an enemy after all. Has betrayed them before. It wouldn't do to put Tommy's weakness on display.

Instead Arthur brings them back to the matter at hand.

"Well?" He asks shortly.

He's rewarded with hand fingers pressing into muscle that make him wince.

Then into thigh.

Hip.

"Ow." Arthur says, squirming when Alfie hits a sore spot on the outside of his hip.

Alfie only digs in harder. Arthur gasps in pain, mouth falling open.

In a second he can't take it anymore and tries to sit up.

"Too much?" Alfie guesses.

Arthur scowls in lieu of admitting it.

"Settle Arthur, I promise I'll be more gentle." Alfie says glibly.

But then it's Alfie who's stopping next, not even after five minutes he's shaking his hand out.

"Fuck." He says mutely into the space between them.

Then Arthur watches him curiously and he feels the need to explain.

"Maid usually rubs liniment into the sore bits."

Arthur does sit up at that, watches Alfie's hands.

"Do you want - " he starts, but doesn't finish.

Arthur swallows thickly.

Alfie gets up and chases down the liniment.

"It'll be better once I get a bit on."

Only, Alfie seems clumsy with it. Can't get it rubbed in everywhere it needs to be. Arthur sits there feeling stupid, not helping the debilitated man until finally he does.

Arthur surprises even himself when he yanks the bottle aggressively from Alfie's hands.

"Give that here." Arthur says gruffly.

And then he is....

When Arthur looks back on this later it feel impossible.

This isn't the sort of thing Arthur would do.

But he is rubbing liniment determinedly into Alfie's hands. The fine webbing between the fingers and the fleshy pads. The palm which leads to the wrist.

"This hurt too?"

Arthur asks when he reaches Alfie's forearm. Alfie only nods dumbly, watching him as if spell bound.

Arthur's fingers work. He works them until they're sore and then it starts to feel good.

Alfie is breathing heavy, the man's eyes lidded just a fraction.

It's quiet between them.

"Anywhere else?" Arthur asks, can't believe he's asked.

Alfie stares him squarely in the eye.

For a moment Arthur isn't sure he's going to say anything.

"Shoulder."

Alfie seems surprised even as Arthur does it.

He groans long and loud in his throat when Arthur hits a certain spot. It scares Arthur off honestly. Alfie manages to catch his wrist though as he pulls away.

"Come back the day after tomorrow. Don't wait until next week."

Arthur doesn't answer.

He gets his things and leaves.

His face is burning as he gets to the car. Isaiah laughs when he sees him.

"You look well and truly fucked. Is this a whorehouse Tommy's sent you to?"

"Shut up Isaiah." Arthur grumbles dangerously which makes the boy's mouth snap shut.

Arthur thinks about it, despite himself.

He actually catches himself feeling sorry for Alfie, which is ridiculous.

He should write this week off and just wait until next week. Only...he's ramped up with unconstrained energy. Reckless with self destruction.

Tommy's putting too much pressure on him. It's on him to make it all go right. Tommy's plan is...well, Arthur is not sure it's going to work. And to be honest Tommy's state of mind is scaring him.

He needs Alfie's hands on him.

He didn't properly get his fix.

Although he told himself he wouldn't, he knows he's going to.


	4. Chapter 4

  


It's the day after tomorrow.

Arthur drives himself up in his own Ford Model T, more modest than Tommy's Bentley, and finds himself thinking he hopes Alfie doesn't look out the window. At least it's not on the brink of repossession and that's something. Fucking Michael. Arthur's car is tied up as collateral unlike Tommy's paid for everything.

There's no Isaiah keeping track of the time today. The thought makes Arthur nervous and he has to remind himself that doesn't mean that anything has changed. He's never gave a single thought to the time before now. Alfie takes care of that.

Besides, Arthur really needs...

Something.

This.

Tommy's gone halfway fucking insane and Arthur is sliding along with him.

It comes out in vapid little waves. Bullying some of the men - fucking Billy at the Garrison of all people. But Arthur looks at the man's softness and feels livid. He can't seem to help it. He bets the man's never had someone beat the weakness out of him. And Finn doesn't help. Finn's never had that either. Their father had left long before that.

Billy is soft in a way that Arthur despises. In a way that makes him snap his teeth. If he had enough introspection he might realize it's because the man is able to act more himself than Arthur is. Anytime Arthur has let his soft underbelly show it's been slit open.

Arthur isn't being soft here.

Alfie is taking something from him and that makes it something else.

Arthur doesn't really understand it.

It's like pressure being let from a valve and the relief is so immense that when his mind edges around it, it almost scares him.

Arthur parks and walks to the door.

"Arthur," Alfie says, the same way he had said when they first met, "I see you're in a mood again."

Arthur's thoughts have gotten away from him. It's uncomfortable to realize it's showing on his face.

"can we - " Arthur asks desperately, before abruptly cutting himself off.

It all feels too much, all of a sudden. Upsetting.

Alfie stares him down cautiously before moving back to let him in.

"Alright." Alfie says, more serious now, "You know the way Arthur."

It's strange to be leading the man back into his own space. Arthur eyes the end of the hall before turning into their room.

He waffles a moment as he isn't sure where to sit, Alfie hasn't staged the room for them.

"The settee, closest to the breeze," Alfie commands airily.

Arthur sits without another word. Finds himself looking up at Alfie who is still standing.

"The maid?" Arthur asks, for something to say.

"Oh, it's her day off." Alfie says in a way that absolutely makes it sounds untrue and sets Arthur ill at ease.

"Whiskey?" Arthur asks hopefully but Alfie just nods in the negative.

"Something's upset you then Arthur? Besides myself?" Alfie asks.

"I don't talk business with outsiders." Arthur means to snap but it comes out weak.

"Alright." Alfie says, amusement creeping back in, as his mouth tilts.

The sun is glinting off of various shiny bits and Arthur squints unhappily.

"It's too fucking shiny in here." Arthur bites.

He hates that Alfie is just standing there above him.

"Shall I draw the blinds?" Alfie asks blithely.

It feels dangerous to allow him to do so. Arthur doesn't know why.

"No." Arthur says shortly.

Alfie finally sits. Pats his legs as invitation. Arthur takes his shoes off shakily, feels embarrassed when he lifts his legs up but then Alfie is pawing at his ankles and drawing them into his lap.

The dig of fingers into flesh immediately quiets his mind, snaps Arthur to the present.

Alfie works his way under Arthur's pant leg, rhythmically so Arthur isn't expecting it when Alfie snaps Arthur's sock garter abruptly. And then he is taking them off, rolling the tops of Arthur's socks down.

Arthur makes a noise in his throat at that. It's unexpected is all.

"You're a talker." Alfie says quietly, and that makes Arthur's noise seem even louder in retrospect, "I think you need to spill it all out, hm?"

Alfie continues working. Finger bones digging into the soft parts of Arthur's calf, then his thigh. Waiting.

Arthur doesn't sigh but he does whimper, faintly. It's humiliating that Alfie hears it, tilts his head towards him.

"You really want me to go first Arthur?" Alfie says, sly amusement like there's a catch but Arthur can't puzzle it out, "How considerate of you. Although I like my partners to finish first I suppose I won't refuse if you really do insist."

It takes the coded words a moment for Arthur to decipher but when he does he goes bright red.

This isn't the first time a man has made a vulgar joke at Arthur's expense.

Prison, comes to mind.

Prison, that Alfie had sent him to.

Arthur had languished.

A particularly sharp dig makes Arthur stiffen in pain, makes him forget his ire.

"I used to have an Aunt you see." Alfie begins and it seems almost like an innocuous story, "Shy like that. Would go bright fucking red if a boy looked her way. She was only a couple years older than me. Sweet. You and I both know you can't be sweet though, don't we Arthur? Not out here. She paid for it, yes she fucking did. Old fucking man laid hands on her. What do you think the family did when they found out...See, you and me? We'd fucking kill the old geezer wouldn't we? That's what we would do."

The glimpse into Alfie's past is both captivating and horrifying. His face is blank as he tells it. His voice flat but wrecked, in a way. Grainy. Arthur thinks of Ada and feels breathless with anticipated grief at the story's ending.

Before Arthur knows it his hand travels down to rest on Alfie's, bringing it to a stop in its hard work.

"What happened?" Arthur asks with baited breath.

"Oh they sold her off to him." Alfie brushes off quickly, like it doesn't matter.

Arthur feels tears prick his eyes. He wills them back.

Alfie is watching too closely though and sees them.

"Tommy's losing it." Arthur says abruptly.

He's unsure whether he's trying to distract Alfie or himself.

"He's too clever," Arthur continues, "always been too clever. But he's...and the opium. He's worrying me sick."

"Tommy's alright." Alfie says firmly. Serious.

The thing about it is that when Alfie says it Arthur feels reassured.

"I've just seen him." Alfie reiterates, "He's gonna be alright."

There's so many reasons why that might not be the case but Arthur can't get into them. Can't get into Mosley or McCavern.

At the moment it feels like it doesn't matter anyway.

And if Arthur can just stay in this moment - but that's a dangerous thought.

Arthur swallows and Alfie tracks the movement.

"Think he's more worried about you, at the moment so am I." Alfie says somewhat glibly and that puts an end to it.

Then the man's hands are back on Arthur, working up and up slow and methodical. When he finds a knot in the muscle he presses in, in a way that makes Arthur hiss and thrash minutely.

Arthur always loses track of time at this part. It only ever feels like a few moments. He knows it's finished because Alfie pulls away.

Alfie makes the mistake of patting Arthur's inner thigh. Arthur's legs part without his permission. It's a clumsy spill of appendages.

The mistake devastates Arthur. The silence in the moment after feels like torture. Like Arthur is waiting in a ditch for a bomb to go off.

When Alfie looks at him and sees his distress he grins, shark like, and Arthur knows he isn't going to like whatever is going to come out of the man's mouth.

"Arthur." Alfie begins, voice low.

"D-don't" Arthur cuts him off, scrambling now - messing up his garters, nearly fleeing, "I got enough comments like that in prison. And at least one of those trips was courtesy of you."

Arthur's too focused on his escape to notice Alfie's own ravaged look, like he's been slapped in the face.

Arthur promises himself he isn't going back.


End file.
